Two thousand and six
A hex-sign was on the barn door,
the cattle in their stalls;
from the fields came a ranch hand
dressed in blue overalls.
I have seen the ogre faces of death:
the chattering teeth, the prayer.
I saw above me a chariot of laughter
dissolve in the evening air.
What lies on the other side?
Is it nothingness?
I can't believe a creative universe
would end in emptiness.
I am fifty-six, sunset and sundown
are miracles now, seen
only in the orbit of the eye
as work of King and Queen.
The ocean promises rebirth,
and we, the faithful, believe.
In the wilderness of thought, it's
the truth I can't conceive.
Page(s) 9
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